Sword Saint's Reincarnation-Chapter 67: Tournament (2)

Hayden watched the incoming Magic Missile with a deadpan expression. He waved his wand. A golden Magic Shield took shape around him. It matched the color of his eyes. The moment the Missile crashed against it and dispersed, he dismissed it and pointed his wand at his opponent, a boy with brown hair and eyes.

“Magic Missile,” he cast, much faster than the boy had.

The boy blinked before hurriedly chanting, but it was too late. Hayden’s Magic Missile flew toward the boy’s thigh like an arrow. It hit its mark, piercing through skin and muscle to create a gaping wound. The boy screamed in pain, making Hayden wince.

I’m sorry.

The sight of blood flowing into the soft earth and drowning the blades of grass was striking. It was the first time he had been the one to inflict an injury of that level on someone. Hayden let out a breath, apologizing again in his mind. As he readied himself to cast another spell with pitying eyes, the mana barrier around him and his opponent vanished.

“Stop!” the professor acting as a judge yelled. “That’s enough!”

Hayden nodded to himself. Thankfully, the professor also seemed to be unwilling to see more blood. The gap between him and the brown-haired boy had already become obvious. The boy gritted his teeth as one of the blue-robed Academy students ran up to him and started casting a healing spell, tears streaming down his face. The professor approached Hayden while rubbing his chin.

“Your casting speed is pretty good, Hayden of Lindsor,” he said with a grin. “To think you became so skilled without the resources the noble kids usually get from birth. Incredible.”

Hayden slightly bowed. He had fully expected to be mocked for being a commoner, but the judge only smiled brightly at him. He could hear the whispers from the other applicants all around him.

“How the fuck are we supposed to fight someone at the Third Circle?”

“I don’t fucking know. He’s a commoner, isn’t he? Is he lying? Who the hell can reach the Third Circle at our age without a noble family?”

“If I get matched against him, I think I’m just gonna throw the match. I don’t wanna get hurt…”

Hayden raised his body, shaking his head slightly.

Sometimes, you need to fight against people stronger than you.

It was a type of trial. He had learned that the world was ruthless and cruel from a young age. Fights against adult men when he was only a child had been commonplace. To survive, there was no such thing as giving up before a stronger opponent. Often, the only choice was to fight tooth and nail for the opportunity to see another day. He furrowed his brow.

I thought nobles would understand that.

“Here, take this paper,” the judge pulled a sheet from his robe, dragging him out of his thoughts. “It tells you where your next fight will be, as the winner. Show it to the judge there and answer the questions honestly to verify your identity. I think you’ll go far.”

Hayden nodded. The professor gave him one last nod before turning to the crowd of applicants around them, shouting about when this spot’s next battle would take place. Hayden spun slowly, taking in his surroundings and the other applicants. He furrowed his brow.

They don’t seem too strong.

He had thought the Royal Magic Academy’s tournament would be more difficult. Was it because he was right at the start? Hayden thought about this for a few seconds before shrugging. Either way, he would find out once he proceeded. He looked at the sky.

I wonder if there’s someone really strong in this tournament.

Hayden knew he had barely shown the surface of what he could do, but he fully expected to meet his match soon enough. His opponents were noble scions, after all. He clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes.

I have to do well. I need to get as close to first place as possible.

To escape his miserable living conditions as a commoner. To obtain a backer who would allow him to go further in his journey to become a great Mage. To prove to everyone, including himself, that he wasn’t a faceless person in the crowd, fated to be forgotten. That he could be someone, be the person he always wanted to be.

Hayden let out a breath, filled with determination.

He was going to be the greatest, no matter who his opponent was.

***

Rylan dashed to the side. Chanting unceasingly left his lips. The ground around him trembled, making him grind to a halt. A heartbeat later, the ground rose as sharp spikes, piercing at his body, but he spun in place, making them only graze his clothes.

My turn.

He looked at his opponent and reached the final part of his chanting.

“Earth Spikes.”

Three Spikes pierced at the other contestant, two from the back and one from the front. Barely a moment before the Spikes pierced him, a Magic Shield appeared around the boy. Rylan raised an eyebrow.

He casts faster than I expected.

The Earth Spikes around Rylan crumbled as he weaved between them and continued to run in a circle around the opponent. The boy’s Shield disappeared as mana ignited into flames and formed a sphere in front of him, then shot toward Rylan. Abruptly speeding up, Rylan avoided the spell, letting it pass next to him. At that moment, there was a change: his eyes widened as his perception screamed at him.

There was no time to think. He merely followed his instincts and took a large step back, tilting his body backward. The Firebolt he’d avoided passed right in front of his chest.

He changed its trajectory in mid-air?

Rylan couldn’t help but feel impressed. Still, he would have all the time to think about this once the battle was over.

“Water Bullets,” he whispered under his breath, finishing his chant.

Mana coalesced into water and pierced through the air like an arrow as he pushed his concentration to its limits. Once the Bullets got within a meter of the opponent, Rylan snapped his fingers. The Water Bullets suddenly expanded and curved their trajectory, turning into a big wall of water that surrounded the opponent and pushed him to the ground. Rylan heard the air leave the boy’s lungs. It was an opportunity that couldn’t be missed. He chanted continuously. Once he finished, the water dispersed back into mana.

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“Wind Blades.”

The air above the opponent gathered into sharp half-moons. The boy looked up with narrowed eyes and a serious expression. Just as the Blades descended, he rolled to the side and stood up in a flash, a Magic Shield taking shape around him. Rylan’s brow furrowed, but there was no time to be lost in his thoughts. He continued to run erratically, changing his speed while chanting at the same time. The Shield around the opponent disappeared.

“Fire Wave!” the boy yelled.

From the tip of his wand, a wave of fire surged, flooding the space within the mana barrier with roaring ferocity. Rylan let out a breath: as the Wave got closer to him, he lowered his center of gravity and lunged, almost throwing himself on the ground. The Wave passed above him in the shape of a burning tide, nearly scorching his hair. Without missing a beat, while the Wave was still over him, Rylan pointed his wand at the boy.

“Earth Grab.”

The earth rose and wrapped itself around the boy’s lower body. The fire hit the mana barrier and recoiled, now coming at Rylan from behind and dominating the entire arena. If he wanted to avoid getting burned, he needed to disturb the opponent’s concentration enough to make the spell fall apart. His expression was calm: it was as if he couldn’t feel the wave of burning heat approaching his back. In a single, fluid movement, Rylan swung his wand. The earth followed his movement; the restraints pulled the opponent diagonally to the side, toppling him.

Without missing a beat, Rylan dashed toward the boy, chanting. Once he got close enough, he ground to a halt and pointed his wand at the opponent’s chest.

“Wind Blades.”

The boy flinched as he tried to stand up, but it was too late. The sharp blades of air cut into his chest and into the arm holding the wand. Blood flowed, shining with morbid beauty as the sunlight hit it. The boy’s pained scream echoed, making some of the onlookers wince.

“Stop!” the professor shouted from outside the barrier. It came undone, turning into particles of light that soon disappeared completely.

Rylan faced the professor, who stepped between him and the boy. With practiced ease, the blue-robed students helped the boy up, one of them casting a healing spell. The professor threw a glance at them, nodded, and turned back to Rylan while rubbing his beard.

“Your ability to cast while moving so quickly is impressive. I wonder what made you improve upon that specifically,” he said in a low tone, looking at Rylan up and down. “Good work. Your next match will take place within the city proper. Just give me a few seconds to record your information.”

Rylan nodded, letting out a breath before throwing a look at the boy he’d just defeated.

It’s getting tougher.

The previous battle and this one were clearly on another level of difficulty, even though his opponents were still at the Second Circle. Just like him, they had been able to manipulate the spells they’d learned and apply them to different situations. That, alongside the greater power and control they showed, as well as the ability to use a variety of Second Circle spells, made these battles much more difficult than the ones before.

Of course, that was from a spellcasting perspective alone. If Rylan had drawn his sword, these battles would have ended much earlier, but that would serve no purpose. It wasn't what he was trying to achieve with this tournament.

In a way, it was a novel feeling, not to be able to use his sword in a battle. A bit lost in his thoughts, Rylan stroked the hilt of the sword on his waist.

It might be a while before I wield you again, my friend.

He looked at the two System windows floating above him.

[Intelligence has increased by 1.]

[Wisdom has increased by 1.]

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The battles were more difficult, but that only made them more rewarding. Even though he hadn't been pushed to his limits, the experience had still been valuable enough to increase his stats. Nodding to himself with a grin, Rylan turned to the professor once more.

“All done,” the white-robed professor said while nodding at Rylan. He then gave him a piece of paper. “The place and time of your next fight is written here. Be sure not to miss it. You can go now.”

Rylan nodded at him.

“Thank you, professor.”

The professor chuckled, rubbing his chin.

“I wonder how far you’ll go. Then, off with you. The others still need to fight.”

With another nod, Rylan left the open field under the stares of the other applicants. Their conversations reached his ears.

“He hasn’t lost even once yet, right?”

“How the hell can he cast while moving so fast?”

“It’s like he isn’t even a Mage. He keeps running around.”

He shook his head. It was only obvious that he would use his developed physical stats to gain an edge.

Putting every Free Point in Intelligence and Wisdom is flawed.

Things like reaction speed, reflexes, and sense of balance were crucial in a real fight. It was different from casting in a safe environment. In a life-and-death battle, being too slow meant death. Unless there were spells that could help with that, every Mage would eventually need to invest in their physical stats, even if only in Dexterity and Body.

At this point, his gaze gained an edge.

I want to see what powerful Mages can really do.

His only serious battle against a skilled spellcaster had been against Evenon, and it had pushed him to his limits. It had taken both luck and skill to prevail, and he had passed out right after, which would have been a death sentence on a battlefield. Not only that, but Gerard had also saved his life with the timely Magic Shield.

Evenon hadn’t fought for a long time. He didn’t have nearly enough experience.

The man had also limited himself to fire spells, most likely because of the heirloom. Had he played his cards better, it was highly likely that Rylan would have died instead before Gerard arrived. Curiosity bloomed within him. His desire to see how good the professors were grew. Still, he needed to actually make it into the Academy first.

Rylan reached the edge of the open space, where the other applicants were waiting. They automatically parted before him, creating a path as they continued to stare at him and talk to each other in whispers. Without saying anything, Rylan started making his way back to his lodgings, wading through the grass and trees to reach a wide dirt road. He looked to his left and beheld Caer Rhelon’s imposing city walls and the north gate. He momentarily considered if he should circulate his mana to make himself run faster but decided against it. There was no reason to risk having someone see him.

I can run normally, though.

Taking a step toward the city entrance, he shot forward, running on the edge of the road, right where it met the grass and the start of the forest. Every step was perfectly stable and didn’t compromise his balance in the least. At the same time, Rylan’s eyes darted around as he sharpened his senses. Just like Roland, he’d developed the habit of always being ready for an ambush, no matter how unlikely it was.

The closer he got to the actual city, the more packed the road became. Caravans of people with stylish clothes: who he assumed to be merchants: bringing wagons filled with boxes; pedestrians in plain brown and grey clothing walked next to each other, smiling and laughing; lone Mages with elegant robes riding on big horses. There were even carriages similar to the one he’d used with Aelfric, while others, clearly more elaborate: with flawless engravings: looked more like Luna’s.

No matter the time, the influx of people into Caer Rhelon was constant. Taking all of this in, Rylan continued to run, drawing confused stares from the others on the road. Finally, he arrived at the gate after a while, letting out a breath. His breathing was still steady; this much running was no longer enough to tire him out. There was a line of carriages and people outside the gates, but none of the guards questioned him as he made his way inside the city after he flashed the paper the professor had given him.

He walked inside the capital. A thought struck him for the umpteenth time.

It’s so lively.

No matter where he looked, there were people laughing, talking, and walking around. Nearly every shop by the side of the roads had people in it, while carriages filled the middle of the streets in an endless procession.

“Hey, kid!” one shopkeeper shouted at him from a roadside stall. “You need a new wand! Come here, I’ve got you covered.”

Rylan looked at the wand on his waist and grinned. It was plain brown, looking more like a stick one would find on the ground. Still, he preferred it this way. It attracted less attention than the intricate wands wielded by the applicants he’d fought against.

“Sorry, I’m not looking for a new wand,” he replied, keeping his smile. The shopkeeper shook his head and sighed but said nothing else.

After making his way through the streets at his own pace, observing everything around him, Rylan arrived at the hotel he was staying at. Now, all he needed to do was wait for Aelfric to arrive, if he weren’t there already. If his brother had done well, he’d congratulate him; if Aelfric had done badly, he would be there to comfort him. Regardless, he would offer his full support.

It was the only way to make up for everything he’d put Aelfric through.